


Being Black Hearted

by mo_ChemicalRo



Category: Frank Iero and the Patience, Gerard Way and the Hormones, My Chemical Romance, frerard - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mo_ChemicalRo/pseuds/mo_ChemicalRo
Summary: Frank and Gerard hadn't known each other before they were mistakenly forced together by the universe. And now as they become acquainted, and realize that they're both assholes, things are a wild rollercoaster with the two boys and everything seems to be against their favor





	Being Black Hearted

So basically Gerard was running late, And that wasn't unusual on a Monday morning for him either. Normally, he'd wake up ten minutes later than his set alarm, He'd hastily shower in such a sloppy manor that he'd somehow make a huge mess, multitasks as he puts coffee on as he's getting dressed, then starts his day by practically running to work down the crowded city streets. 

But today, everything had somehow managed to go wrong.

His alarm never went off, so instead of waking up ten minutes late, it was a whole half hour. And instead of his quick morning shower, he sprayed himself down with febreeze, got dressed and realized that his coffee maker was now, somehow, broken, and possibly smoking. But he didn't have time to worry about the smoke because if he didn't leave now he'd be late for the fifth time this month, and would most likely be fired.

So as he was running down the street with no coffee and one of his shoes untied, he began to get a head ache and scolded himself for not remembering to set his alarm correctly.

Gerard approached the massive building at the beginning of the street plaza, pushing through the front doors and greeting the security guard at the front desk.

"Excuse me, Sir!" the Security guard called after him as he quickly made his way to the elevator. He rolled his eyes and sighed as he turned around. "I need to see identification please!"

He quickly made his way back over to her, " I literally come here every day, why do you need identification every day? Don't you know me by now? i mean come on!" He complained, but he was taking out his ID either way, and by the time he was done his little rant, his ID was back in his hands and he was being shrugged off.

He stepped into the elevator, which was thankfully empty, and slumped back against the wall as he waited to arrive at his floor.

As the elevator opened onto his floor, he was met with a busy, rushing office in which he had no interest being part of. But it was his job and for now he was stuck with it.

"Damn, Way," Gerard heard a familiar voice from behind him as he made his way over to the lounge to check in. "you dont look so hot."

Gerard turned around to face the voice with a dramatic roll of the eyes, and came face to face with Bob Bryar, his coworker, and probably one of his closest work acquaintances. Not friend though, Gerard likes to keep personal and professional life separate.

He put on the most obviously fake smile he could muster up and flashed it in Bobs direction with a slight curtsy, and as soon as he heard the slight chuckle from bob, he dropped it, putting back on the look of disgust and the face that said 'I'd-rather-be-anywhere-else-than-here-right-now'.

As he clocked in, exactly a minute late, he was bombarded by the noise of useless gossip being spurted his way by none other than Terry and Lindsay.

Terry and Lindsay have always been friends, even when they didn't know each other, it was just always a thing. Like they were the same person or something. At least it seemed that way to Gerard and everyone else in the office.

"Well she says she got an abortion, but I saw on her private face book that I follow with a catfish account, that they were gonna keep the baby and give it up for adoption." Terry attempted to whisper to Lindsay, but the whispering part failed miserably, and now Gerard was stuck with the knowledge that another kid was going into the shitty adoption agencies of America, and that Terry has a cat fishing face book account.

Good thing he doesn't have Facebook.

As Gerard settled back at his desk, taking out the first file of work he knew he had to get done, he was suddenly called into an "important" meeting.

Everyone in the office filed into the conference room before he could, leaving him with the only open seat next to Lindsay in the front of the room.

"Now, people," Gerard's boss, Mr. Kulbowski, started. He stood tall at the front of the room, leaving Gerard very little personal space from him, like he usually had when he sat in the back. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you into a meeting so early in the day."

Kulbowski waltzed back and forth, cockishly displaying the presentation board behind him. "Well, to answer ur question," he cocked up on eye brow, leaning in towards Gerard in a manner Gerard thought was absolutely fucking stupid, "Im about to update all of you on our monthly fiscal achievements as a morale boost for this week!"

Gerard groaned under his breath and rolled his eyes. Never in a million years would he ever care or want to care about the god damn monthly fiscal achievements. He didn't even know what that meant, for Pete's sake. And to make matters worse, he was still sitting up front right in the center of attention of his boss in whom he hated with a passion.

After a few minutes of tuning out his boss, gerard heard a sentence that brought him back to the topic. "I see Jessica is absent today."

Jessica was kulbowskis new secretary. Gerard had actually come to enjoy her company quite a bit, even though the only time they had ever talked was when they were both standing at the printer for a few minutes. They only spoke about how kowbulski was being extra dickish that day, but that was the main reason Gerard liked her so much, she understood.

As kowbulski finished up his presentation with one of the fakest business smiles Gerard has sworn he's ever seen in his life, he looked around the room, eyeing his employees for just a moment.

"Okay every body, meeting dismissed, back to work!" He shouted then paused with eyes on Gerard, "Hey, you! Sulky one!"

Gerard turned around out the name kowbulski had used, remembering him using it before.

"Go out on a coffee run, would ya?" He sauntered towards Gerard and placed thirty dollars into his palm confidently. But before Gerard could protest, he had already walked out of the conference room and towards his office.

-

As reluctant as Gerard was to practically be demoted and go on a coffee run for the whole office, he trudged down the busy city streets, trying his best not to bump into anyone on the crowded side walks. He hated touching people, but at this time when everyone was off to work, it was most certainly crowded.

He walked into the coffee shop a few blocks away, finding it to be even more crowded than the streets had been. With the string of curses playing in his head, he struggled to make his way to the back of the line, and knowing he'd have to stand there for about a half hour, he put on what he thought was probably the bitchiest of faces one could lay eyes on. All he kept thinking was the word "murder" over and over again.

Slowly but surely, and super annoyingly, he finally made it to the counter. He ordered 8 medium coffees, spending the entire thirty dollars, and waited for them to be ready.

As he looked over the small shop, he stared at the man behind the counter, making his coffee. Definitely cute. With that sleek black hair and doughy eyes, all the tattoos he had, all just made Gerard want to go over and have an in depth conversation with him about his favorite type of music. That was possibly pretty specific, but it was just one of those feelings.

The cute man brought over the eight coffees, calling out Gerard's name, signaling they were ready for pickup. Gerard quickly went to retrieve them, making nice friendly eye contact with the cute man, not even taking into consideration that he could've looked at his name tag at any given moment. But Gerard snatched up the coffees and left, only hoping to see that man again some day, even just from afar.

-

He walked quickly and carefully back to the office building through the crowded streets, trying to be careful as people bumped into him.

Gerard managed to make it back to the office in one piece, successfully carrying both full drink holders in his hands.

As he stepped out of the elevator and towards the office break room, he came into full body contact with Bryce, the office accountant, who didn't even work on that floor. Coffee went everywhere, all over the both of them and the floor, burning their stomachs and legs, making a huge scene in front of the whole office.

"What the hell, Bryce!?" Gerard screamed, trying to unstick his hot clothes from his skin.

Bryce was wincing as the papers he was carrying were now destroyed. "I'm sorry- I wasn't watching where I was going! Fuck! Coffee is hot!"

"No shit! God damn it!" Gerard shot back, making Bryce step back in guilt.

"What is going on here!?" Kulbowski yelled, causing Gerard to freeze up for a moment before becoming seething once again.

"Bryce doesn't even work on this floor!" He yelled back to his boss.

Bryce threw his hands up in defense, "I had to get the financial report from Diana!"

"That's enough!" Kowbulski shouted at the two of them, now noticing the spilt coffee and their ruined clothes. "The two of you go home for the day! What you have done is unprofessional and inappropriate!" He threw his hands in the air in anger, then placed them back on his hips muttering "so much for boosting morale" under his breath.

-

Grumbling about his wet and sticky clothes in the, still somehow, busy streets of the city, Gerard trudged back to his apartment on the other side of the city. He checked the time on his wrist watch, noticing it was only half past eleven at this point, and he definitely wasn't going to get paid as much this week as he would have if stupid Bryce hadn't been in the wrong place at the very wrong time.

As he made his way up towards his apartment building, he noticed the firetruck and ambulance along the street, and began praying and hoping that it wasn't somehow his own apartment that had burned down.

but as he made his way up the elevator and down the hall, the smell of burning became quite abundant, and as he turned the corner, he came across the sight of about a thousand police officers and fire fighters walking about and putting out any remaining burning.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Gerard breathed out in disbelief. He slowly walked towards his door in awe and shock before an officer stopped him.

She put a hand up in front of him, "Excuse me, sir? are you the owner of this property?"

All Gerard could do for a moment was stare at his home, feeling like maybe the world was sending him some sort of sign, before the woman repeated herself and Gerard snapped out of his daze, replying with a small "yeah," and suddenly feeling like he wanted to cry.

The Officer gestured over to another officer who was carrying two full duffel bags, handing them to Gerard. "These are all of the belongings that were salvageable from the fire. you'll have to find other residence until further notice. Do you have anywhere to stay, Young man?"

Gerard was still in shock and afraid to even speak a word in fear that he would burst in to tears, but with the stern gaze of the officer, she seemed like she meant business and probably had other things to attend to anyway.

"N-no, this was my home," Gerard began to stutter, tears brimming his eyes, "I haven't been in touch with any of my family for years, i dont even get paid until next month and - and i- i dont know where i'm gonna go now- i'm gonna be homeless- what was even the cause of the fire?!" Gerard began to spiral and the officer slightly panicked over the hysteric man.

"Fire department said it was a faulty coffee maker." she stated, taking a step back from Gerard who was now full on crying and panicking, muttering 'of-course-it-was-the-stupid-coffee-maker' under his breath. The officer looked around and went over to the door across from Gerard's burnt down one, knocking hard on it.

Gerard gave her a questioning look before she shrugged and someone opened the door, Someone Gerard recognized.

"Son," The officer looked over the young man in sweatpants and white t-shirt, who had just seemed to have gotten out of the shower, and took on a power stance, "as a citizen of this town and this mans neighbor, it is your civic duty and the law to provide him with housing until his residence can be renewed."

The man in the door way looked awkwardly over at Gerard, and he instantly recognized him as the man from the coffee shop.

"fuck."

-

Now lets take a step backwards, and look at franks side of the story.

Frank had woken up extremely early from another night of insomnia and weird anxiety ridden dreams that made him think there were hands all over him. it was only four-thirty in the morning but there was no way frank was going back to sleep willingly. So he forced his exhausted body out of bed, walking into his kitchen to make himself some coffee, then sat down on his couch to try and wake himself up a bit more. Except that didn't work too well as he somehow fell asleep again for another few moments.

Then yet again, being scared awake by his anxious dream state. except this time, he was closer to the time he had to leave for work, and for once, he was somewhat glad he was going to be working all day, that'd way, he'd be forced to stay awake.

About two hours later after showering and slipping into his favorite black jeans, he made his way down to the coffee shop a few blocks away to start his day.

He clocked in a few minutes early and slid on his apron with his name tag on it, and started his day, grabbing a fresh coffee from the machine before it got too busy.

-

The rush was almost like nothing Frank had ever seen. Normally in the mornings its a little crowded, but today they had to call an extra person in to work and they were still behind. The line filled the entire store, people were getting impatient and rowdy, and Frank was not prepared.

An old woman approached the front of the line, "one large black coffee to go please." Her smile was weak and half assed as she handed frank a twenty dollar bill. She looked down at franks arms and hands, "are those tattoos?" She asked.

"yes, ma'am." Frank said without a whim of concern, assuming she was going to compliment them. that is until she spoke up again.

she cleared her throat as frank handed her the change, "You know you can get hepatitis and all other forms of diseases when you get those." She stared grossly at the money that was put back in her hands and quickly shoved it in her purse.

frank looked at her awkwardly as she stood her ground at the counter, making the rest of the line even more angry, "Yeah, i know. But i didn't so-"

"would you mind having someone else make my coffee," she interrupted, "i dont want to catch anything and pass too soon." She said like she wasn't just talking about dying from catching hepatitis from fucking drinking coffee someone with tattoos made. "you understand, dont you dear?"

Frank stared at her for a moment in shock and, quite frankly, a lot of offence. "i'll have you know that i dont have any diseases, lady! and even if i did, i'm not the one even making your coffee because im too busy trying to get you to move out of the way of the next customer!" he snapped, not realizing how rude he was being until he caught a glimpse of his boss staring him down out of the corner of his eye. he groaned and sighed, "next."

The line was moving now, so at least he didn't have to deal with that ignorant old woman anymore. And besides, it wasn't like he had cursed her out, so it's not like his boss could really punish him too badly.

Besides the tattoo incident, Frank was being pretty cautious of his actions, knowing he was tired and prone to making mistakes fairly easily.

Frank was on his game now though, and he felt that as long as he stayed focused, then he could make it through the entire work day without having a mental breakdown for once.

That was until something completely and utterly distracting made it to the register.

Frank took one look at the tall, dark haired man and went completely awestruck for about two seconds before his work instincts kicked in and he took the mans order. Eight medium coffees. Frank thought that was definitely a lot and had to assume that he worked somewhere with a lot of other people, and was probably nominated for a coffee run.

Bad luck for that guy today.

He tried his best not to stare as his shift changed as soon as he was done with the man's order, and was now the one making the coffees instead of taking orders. Maybe frank should've remembered to ask for a name to call out, just so he could know it and fantasize about the guy later. It wasn't like he'd ever see him again anyway. Right?

Frank handed the man his coffees on two drink holders with a nice smile and a little bit of prolonged eye contact, and then the man turned and left. He could only hope to see that man again someday.

By the time the rush had started to clear out a bit more, Frank was already fed up. Why did everyone have to keep ordering such complicated drinks? It was only taking longer for him to make them and he's already messed up on three and had to re do them.

he placed a drink on the pick up counter, "One vanilla caramel coffee with extra foam!" he called out, and a shorter woman walked up to retrieve it.

she opened the cap to the coffee cup and stared at it in confusion. "Excuse me, sir?" she beckoned to frank and he went rushing over. "i asked for extra foam in this and i didn't get any."

frank looked back at her, probably equally as confused. "ma'am you have extra foam in there."

"no there's just coffee," the woman said genuinely.

Frank wasn't buying it. with all the tricksters that have come in before, frank wasn't gonna fall for anything this time. "Ma'am there is literally foam up to the top of your cup!" he pointed at the woman's cup.

she seemed rather annoyed at this point. "young man, i do not appreciate your tone or the fact that i'm being lied to by staff just to get away with stealing money from me!"

"What!?" frank Snapped in two at that point. "Lady, i dont know what your deal is, but you're keeping me from doing my job and- just- there's literally so much foam in there! it's like an abnormal amount of foam!"

"No there's not!" she yelled back over the crowd of people that still remained in the shop. "I want to speak with the manager!"

"fine!" he turned around and looked around the shop for his boss, who was now not in the same place he was when frank saw him before. He groaned and stormed to the back room to get him.

Barging through the door, he saw his boss sitting on the couch texting someone. "Some lady wants to speak to you about the fucking foam!" he blurted and stormed back out, hoping he'd follow.

His boss, Chris, walked out of the back room and up to the woman who looked the most annoyed and troubled out of the whole crowd, "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

The woman placed an authoritative hand on her hip, "I asked for extra foam and got none, then your employee here lied to me, saying there was more than just extra foam in here which clearly there isn't!"

Chris looked into the woman's cup, which was legitimately filled with foam, and gave her a confused look, "this is a joke, right?"

The woman raised a brow, "I beg your pardon?"

"Ma'am there is plenty of foam in this cup," Chris pointed to the to go cup in her hands, "this white stuff is foam."

"No!" She sighed aggravated, "foam is the creamy white stuff, like from the cans!"

Frank froze in his tracks for a moment, wondering if the world was purposefully testing his patience today for some reason. "Ma'am..." he paused for a moment, taking in a breath. "Are you possibly talking about whipped cream?"

The woman's eyes went wide and a blush arose on her face, "oh," she laughed nervously. "Oh goodness, I apologize- yes! I must be out of my wits today-"

"It's fine!" Frank butted in, taking the coffee from her and walking behind the counter again, hastily scraping off the foam and replacing it with a fuck ton of whipped cream. Why anyone would want whipped cream in their coffee, Frank did not know, but at this point he was about to have a nervous break down and burn the place to smithereens. 

He handed the woman her coffee again and blatantly ignored her thank you and apologies, trying to get back to making everyone else's orders so that he could get the rush out of there.

For the next twenty minutes, everything seemed to be going just fine. Frank was working calmly, keeping to himself with no complaints. When suddenly the espresso machine shut off for no reason.

He tried to unplug it and plug it in again, that didn't work. He turned a few knobs, that didn't work, he tried re plugging it in  _again_ , that worked for about two seconds before it shut off again and began to sputter.

Frank began to panic, as his prior frustrations began to resurface. He unplugged the machine completely and took a step back, bumping into his coworker, making him spill two coffees on the floor, and suddenly the espresso machine began to leak and spill onto the floor as well.

"What the hell!?"

"How the fuck!?"

Frank was apologizing left and right as his coworker, who had now fallen in the spilt coffee, was rubbing his wet back. His other coworker was still manning the register and glancing back with concerned flares towards frank.

He rushed, trying to stop the machine from leaking by putting a towel over the nozzle, which only made it squirt directly into his eye.

He dropped the towel trying to rub what ever was in his eye, out. Thats when Chris came running in.

"Who's responsible for this?!"

As if they randomly joined some elitist cult with the name 'I-hate-Frank-iero', both his coworkers shouted his name in unison.

"What?" Frank gasped, taking a step backwards to face his boss, ultimately stepping in the puddle of mixed up coffees and slipping and falling flat on his back on the floor.

"Ow."

-

"Frank, maybe you should just take the rest of the day off." Chris suggested, eyeing frank as he tried to sop up the wetness from his back and get the remaining espresso out of his eye. "You've just been off your game today, and I get it, it's been busy, sometimes that's difficult."

Frank sighed, "I just don't even know what went wrong. The machine was working fine before then!"

Chris shrugged, "Hey, sometimes machines just break."

Frank supposed Chris was right, maybe it wasn't actually his fault. But even so, he couldn't help but feel guilty, and a bit scared that Chris was going to make him pay for a new machine.

So with a thank you to Chris and not even a good bye to his _betraying_ coworkers, frank left, walking down the busy streets in wet, coffee stained clothes.

As he approached his building, he spotted fire trucks and an ambulance outside. He started to panic, instantly fearing the worst.

And with his luck today, he did not doubt that what had happened, was the worst.

Without a second thought he began sprinting for his apartment. Waiting in the elevator to get to his floor, then quickly running out and turning the corner to find his apartment door.

And it was completely fine.

But it was his neighbor across from him that had really gotten it.

He passed all of the police and firefighters cautiously and snuck into his apartment. Closing the door quietly behind him and collapsing against it.

He regretted his decision as soon as he felt the now cold coffee slick to his back again, and he pulled away from the door, instantly making a beeline for the shower.

The warm water on his skin was immensely relaxing and he sighed in the steam. He cleaned his back, then washed his hair. Then honestly contemplated on whether he should jack off for a bit or not.

He decided he was just too tired and shut off the shower, drying off and throwing on sweat pants and a white t-shirt.

Suddenly there was a knock at his door. He walked over to answer it, and in front of him was a police officer.

"Son," she said, straightening her stance and looking him directly in the eyes, "as a citizen of this town and this mans neighbor, it is your civic duty and the law to provide him with housing until his residence can be renewed."

Frank looked over to the man the officer was gesturing to, and came to recognize the attractive man from the coffee shop.

"Fuck." 


End file.
